The Spice of Life
by Alun Aleriksson
Summary: Octavia is bored with her lifestyle. Canterlot no longer cares for music, and it is up to her to change that. It will take a few new friends to teach her that life is not a picnic. It is a Journey.
1. City of the Angels

Disclaimer- I don't own anything related to MLP:FiM. That belongs to Lauren Faust and Hasbro.

* * *

Ch. 1 – City of the Angels

Octavia gently separated the bow from the strings, letting the last note ring and fade on its own. She opened her eyes to the polite applause from an audience she couldn't see. The concert had been practically perfect, of course; the Royal Canterlot Symphony was the best in Equestria.

Even so, Octavia didn't feel like celebrating after her performance. She packed up her instrument slowly and carefully before making her way out of the concert hall.

She pushed through the crowd of pretentious ponies. Every single one was busy praising the concert to their friends or guests. She heard phrases like "magnificent," "brilliant," and "performance of the year," but they didn't mean anything. The ponies that were talking about the music had no idea how to talk about music. The concert was just another thing to make an appearance at, another mark of high society. It was something to do, not something to enjoy.

So what was she, Octavia, doing? Appeasing the masses with predictable, traditional music? Allowing herself to be caged by the elites of society? Or, even worse, becoming one of them?

She shuddered as she stepped out in to the evening air. Luna's moon had barely risen, and a piece of the sky still held on to the dying colors of the day, framing the various towers and spires of the Canterlot Palace with streaks of pink and orange.

Despite herself, Octavia smiled. She had always enjoyed the sun; even though it did the same thing everyday, it still found a way to incorporate variety into its routine, as demonstrated by the beautiful sunsets that were never the same from one night to the next. The sun was her beacon of hope, her refuge. It took her mind off of her day-to-day life.

'_If you're so miserable, though,' _she thought to herself as she began the trek to her apartment. '_Why keep doing this? Why continue to live here?'_

It wasn't that Octavia hated Canterlot; this was her hometown. She had been born and raised on these pristine streets; asking her to just get up and leave would be asking her to give up her life, and she couldn't do that yet.

'_Are you sure? What life do you have here, anyway?'_

Her thoughts immediately went to the Symphony. She was first chair cellist, and one of the best musicians in the organization! Surely that was a good enough reason to stay!

_'Is it really? You aren't appreciated, you're bored with the music, and you didn't even want to celebrate tonight.'_

She sighed. Whose side was she on? She loved playing her cello, and loved performing for an audience, but the voices in her head had a point. The music she played had grown stale, and the audience no longer cared whether a V-I chord progression resolved to a major or a minor.

Come to think of it, the entire city seemed to have grown stale. Nothing new happened anymore, and it sometimes it felt as if the buildings themselves were getting bored with the Canterlot routine.

Octavia frowned as she continued her nighttime walk. At this hour, most offices and homes were dark and empty, even though it was just after sunset. She gazed up at the tiers of mournful windows, hoping one would light up, or show some sign of life. None did; the city remained gloomy as ever.

It was sad, really, to think of the city as gloomy. The buildings were bleached pure white, and the palace rose majestically, as if to scrape the sky. It was an inspiring sight, promising hope and light not just to the citizens of Canterlot but all of Equestria. For anypony outside the walls, the city looked anything but gloomy. Most ponies praised it as an ideal city; a utopia created by the Goddesses themselves.

Octavia had spent her life in the city, and she knew the truth. The utopia everypony expected was broken and flawed, and the high walls gave a feeling of imprisonment, not protection.

She reached her destination: a tall apartment building on the mountain side of the city. It looked as empty and dead as everything else she had seen tonight, and provided no reprieve from the sense of depression she suddenly felt.

Her apartment was simple and clean; the walls were the same white as the outside of the building, and her furniture was plain. She didn't mind, of course; she had never been extravagant, but tonight it only reminded her of the blandness overtaking her hometown.

_'Oh, well. What can one pony do?'_

For now, she could go to sleep. Her body ached from carrying her instrument, and her mind ached from just being around the Canterlot Elites. She set down her cello in its usual corner with slightly less care than normal, and flopped down on her bed.

Sleep mercifully came quickly.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and early. Octavia was gently awakened by warm sunlight squinting between her curtains and caressing her face. She stretched and sighed contentedly, happy to wake up to the sun she adored. Octavia was definitely a morning pony.

She rolled out of bed and adjusted her sheets so they looked straight and proper.

'_And boring.'_

'No,' she thought back. 'Today is a new day, and I will not start it off by thinking like that.'

She continued her morning routine without any other thoughts on the matter, and exited her apartment with a cheerful smile.

She procured breakfast from a small, family owned café down the street.

"Good morning, Latte!" She greeted the owner behind the counter.

"Hello, Octavia. The usual for you?"

Octavia was about to answer in the affirmative, but remembered her thoughts last night. She figured she could at least try something different, and this would be a great way to start breaking the recent monotony of her life. "Actually," she said aloud. "What do you recommend today?"

Latte blinked, and took a moment to answer. "Well, we just got a fresh batch of Cloudsdale Croissants this morning. They're supposed to be the best in Equestria; as light and fluffy as a cloud, they say."

"That sounds wonderful," Octavia responded. "One of those with my coffee, please."

Latte began to fill her order, but not before a questioning gaze passed over her features. Octavia pretended not to notice.

"So what's on your mind?" the barista asked with her back turned.

"Nothing, why do you ask?"

Latte set the bread and beverage on the counter a few moments later. "This is why," she motioned to the croissant. "Octavia, you've been coming to my shop every morning for almost three years now, and not once have you ordered anything besides a blueberry muffin with your coffee. What gives?"

"I thought I'd just, you know, switch it up."

"Things don't normally change without a reason, Octavia."

The cellist broke at that comment. "But that's just the thing, Latte; I wish they would!"

"How's that?"

Octavia sighed and sipped while she tried to think of a way to explain how she felt. "The Symphony has played the same few songs for the last three concerts we've done, and every time, the nobles and other ponies that show up say it was the best performance they've ever seen."

"Because it probably was." Latte answered. "I've heard you play, Octavia; you drove me to tears."

"That was an original piece. The symphony turned it down."

"What? Why?"

"My director told me it was 'too new,' and that ponies would never appreciate it."

"But that's absurd!"

"It's not just the music, Latte. Everything Canterlot does is the same. The art, the music, the science, they even eat at the same couple of restaurants every day! Nothing ever changes! You said it yourself: I've been coming here for three years and haven't once changed my order!" Octavia wasn't shouting, she never did, but her voice was clearly distressed.

Latte listened to her friend, but she couldn't understand the urgency in Octavia's words. "There's nothing wrong with sticking to what works, Octavia. The day-to-day similarities are comforting. Why mess with the balance?"

"It would be a different thing if they were similarities, Latte, but they're not. They're the same thing: the same ponies, the same songs, and the same critiques, every single time! I can't remember the last time I was challenged by a piece the Symphony played, but we're supposed to be the best! We should be pushing our limits, trying to get better, but we've stagnated. The critics say we've reached the peak of perfection, but what do they know?" Octavia's shoulders drooped. "We could be so much better if they'd let us change something now and then. They've denied every piece I've submitted, even the traditional classic ones. They say they don't want to take any chances; that they want to keep playing what they know ponies like. They want to stick with what works."

The irony of her own words being turned against her like that sent a chill down Latte's spine, and she realized what Octavia was so upset about. "I'm… sorry, Octavia,"

Octavia gave a mirthless laugh. "It's not your fault. The entire city's the same way."

"No, it's not!" Latte protested. "Not while there are still ponies like you who think things can change for the better. You can fix it, Octavia. You can change the world."

"I'm just one pony. What difference could I make on my own?"

* * *

Octavia returned to her apartment a short while later and found everything just the way she had left it: two chairs, a couch, a coffee table, and her music corner with her cello, stand, and composition paper. She made her way to the latter and reviewed the sheets she had written yesterday before the concert. The first page bore the title of the piece: "Luna's Dreamscape," but not much else. Octavia knew how she wanted the song to sound, but couldn't bring herself to put notes to paper just yet. She stared at the lines sadly, knowing that this music would never make it to a stage, would never be performed, because the Canterlot Elites expected her to do the same thing she had done for years: play the instrument, not the music.

Every day for the next few weeks she stared at the paper, willing the notes to manifest themselves onto the paper, transforming the beautiful swirling melodies she heard in her head to reality. They never did. The page remained as blank as the faces she performed for every month.

* * *

Rehearsals for the upcoming concert were the same as ever. The director hadn't even bothered passing out new music; it would be a waste of paper. Octavia dutifully pulled her bow across the strings as she had so many times before, and thought she might physically collapse from boredom. Nopony was struggling with the music; most of the Symphony had the songs completely memorized, and they finished the first song they practiced with no mistakes to speak of.

"Excellent, everypony." The director commented. He was an old stallion; his coat was brown, but his black mane was graying on the sides. It gave him an air of experience and wisdom. In another time, Octavia's childhood, perhaps, he would have been considered a sensational composer and director, but nowadays, he was just paid to wave a stick. "I'd like to work on Beethoofen's Seventh Symphony now."

Octavia shuffled her pages until she found the piece. She felt a sinking in her chest. She had heard great things about this particular composer, but had never heard any of his original compositions, and couldn't believe the Symphony was playing his masterpieces the way he had intended.

She began to play, the notes slowly flowing at the same tempo they always had. Octavia had reviewed the music extensively, and thought she had some ideas to make it sound less bland. If she put a crescendo here, perhaps the rest of the Symphony would follow…

The tapping of a baton on the director's stand stopped her. "Miss Octavia," he said, looking directly at her. "Why did you get louder?"

Octavia hurriedly glanced around. The entire Symphony seemed to be staring at her. "I thought it would… add some feeling," she attempted to explain.

Her director sighed heavily. "The ponies we perform for do not listen to us for feeling, Miss Octavia. Please just play the music like you always have."

Octavia nodded and averted her eyes. "Yes, Coda."

"From measure sixty-two, everypony."

* * *

Octavia packed up her instrument, struggling to hold back tears. The second chair cellist approached her.

"Hey,"

Octavia looked up. "Hello, Fermata."

Fermata shuffled her hooves awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. "I thought you sounded good," She finally said.

Octavia gave her a small smile. It was a sort of running joke between the two musicians that Fermata was secretly plotting Octavia's downfall in order to claim the first chair seat. This was utterly ridiculous, of course; both had the utmost respect for the other, and Fermata knew Octavia was simply the better player. Octavia took the compliment at face value.

"Thank you,"

Fermata lingered, as if she had something else to say, but couldn't. She shifted her weight uncomfortably, and stepped back when Octavia stood up with her instrument secured.

Before either one could speak, Coda appeared and put a hoof on Octavia's shoulder. "May I have a word?"

Octavia had no choice but to follow.

Coda led the confused cellist to the small back room he used as his office, gesturing to indicate that Octavia should have a seat across from him. He sat himself behind a simple desk and pressed his hooves together in front of his face.

Octavia sat ramrod-straight in her chair. If Coda wanted to fire her, she would at least keep her dignity through the process. She did not fidget, and looked her director in the eyes.

After a few moments, Coda seemed to relax. "Why did you perform a crescendo in that piece, Octavia?"

It was incredible how hard it could be to answer such a simple question. Octavia decided to go with her previous answer, "To add feeling,"

Coda did not nod, frown, or otherwise show what he was thinking. His face was not that of a pony who would understand the concept of "feeling." "Why, though?" He asked.

Octavia did not waver as she answered. "The piece called for it. It was written in the music."

Her director stared at her for a long time. "Octavia, we both know that you are quite adept at reading music. What on that page told you that there was supposed to be a crescendo at that particular point in the song?"

Octavia's answer was robotic. "The phrase consisted of a rising eighth note run ending with a unison chord and led into the next few measures. There should be a contrast in volume to maximize the effect of the chord and differentiate it from the rest of the phrase."

"No words, though. Nothing physically written on the page?"

"Just the notes."

"And you believe the notes give you direction on how loud the music is supposed to be?"

"…Yes."

Coda leaned back in his chair. "Interesting. Just one more question."

Octavia remained silent.

"Why now?" He asked. "You haven't done this in any other rehearsal. What prompted the change?"

Octavia's prim posture slackened slightly. How should she put this? "I suppose I got bored,"

"Bored? Is the music no longer challenging you, Octavia?"

Octavia mentally back pedaled. "No! Well, yes, but it wouldn't be- I mean, it was challenging the first time I looked at it, but Coda, this is the fourth concert at which we've played the same songs. The whole Symphony has their parts memorized, and this repetition isn't making us better musicians," she stopped herself before she seriously offended her director, if she hadn't already.

Fortunately, Coda didn't seem offended. He didn't seem happy, either. He retrieved a notepad and pencil with his mouth and began scribbling something down. Octavia waited patiently, but apprehensively.

Finally, Coda spat out the utensil so he could speak. "I wish there was something else I could do for you, but for now, this is the best I can think of. " He handed her the paper, which had a couple of addresses on it in his messy handwriting. "If I could support you further, I would, but my position will not allow me." He explained. "I am therefore effectively firing you from the Symphony." He waited for a response, but Octavia gave him none, so he continued. "You are one hundred percent correct, Octavia. About everything. The crescendo you played was perfectly placed and executed, and I'm sorry I had to cut you off. You are also correct in saying that this music no longer challenges you, so I am letting you go."

Octavia was very quiet and still, whether from shock or thought Coda couldn't tell. They sat staring at each other for quite a while, until something clicked in Octavia's head.

"If you know I'm right," she started slowly, "Why not let me stay? Why not put the crescendo in?"

"A few years ago I would have, and if the owner of the Symphony would go for it, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Thing is, he wants to play it safe. Everypony wants to play it safe nowadays, and I can't change that without major repercussions. But you can."

"Me?"

Coda sighed. "Octavia, I know how good you are. Much better than anything I can offer." He tapped the note he had written. "If you want something different, I suggest starting here. The first is a new club I've heard about, and the second points to an old friend, if he's still there. These are the best leads in music I can get you. Where you go from there, I can only hope."

Octavia stuck the paper in her case and rose. "I have one more question," she said.

"Fire away."

"Did you see this coming?"

Coda looked her squarely in the eyes. "If you called me a coward for what I didn't do, you would be right in doing so. Yes, part of the blame rests on my shoulders. I'm passing it to you, Octavia, and I apologize for that. I'm asking you to do what I could not, but I have confidence you will succeed. The next time I see you, it will be to beg you for symphony arrangements of your new music."

Octavia smiled softly. "Thank you, Coda."

"If you succeed, it is I who will be thanking you. Save me, Octavia. Save all of Canterlot."


	2. Lights

Ch. 2 - Lights

"_Save me, Octavia. Save all of Canterlot."_

Coda's words rang in her ears long after she had left the rehearsal hall. Save all of Canterlot? By herself? She was only one pony, after all. What did Coda expect her to do?

She regarded the addresses her director ('_Former director,' _she thought) had given her. They were both located in the Outer District, one Octavia had never visited. It was known to be slightly… less posh than the central city area, to put it gently.

As much as she questioned the sanity of venturing outside of her comfort zone, she knew it was necessary. Besides, it would be nice to have a change of scenery, right? She might even meet some ponies who shared her concerns and would be willing to help her out, or point her in the right direction, and Canterlot would realize how stupid it had been and start accepting new art and music and culture and she could be home in time for dinner.

Okay, maybe that was a little bit optimistic, but right now it was what Octavia was holding on to. She dropped off her cello in her apartment and again wistfully regarded her unfinished compositions. _'Someday,'_

Perhaps tonight she could visit the "club" Coda had mentioned. It would be a good opportunity to observe a completely different part of the Canterlot culture, and possibly get some ideas as to what she should now do. Who knew? Some ponies there might actually be as interested in music as much as she was.

* * *

Octavia was content to simply sit at the bar and sip her wine. (The bartender had given her a strange glance when she ordered it; his patrons usually opted for something much stronger.) The thudding music and strobe lights in the background weren't her style, not to mention the type of dancing these ponies participated in.

'_But isn't that what you came here for? A change of scenery, you said.'_

Octavia groaned. She thought that voice had been drowned out by the music. Still, she couldn't deny what she had told herself. She had come here hoping for something different, something to get her mind off of the repetitive, dull, "Canterlot Elite" lifestyle. While she had certainly found something different, she couldn't quite bring herself to associate with the crowd, or the behavior that went with this sort of establishment, hence the wine as oppose to vodka or whisky.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a blue and white blur plopped itself down beside her.

"Yo, Mix! I need my usual over here!" It yelled.

"Comin' right up, Vinyl!" The bartender called back.

Octavia looked around to find the newcomer, a white unicorn mare with a striking blue mane, staring at her. At least, she thought she was staring at her. She couldn't see anything behind the huge pair of purple tinted glasses on her face.

Octavia turned away, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"Heads up, V!" A glass slid down the bar and the unicorn caught it with her magic, not taking her eyes off of the gray mare in front of her. Well, presumably.

"You don't look like the type to come here," she commented.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, your mane's too straight. Definitely not a regular." She took a swig of her concoction.

Octavia visibly recoiled. "Too straight? Am I to believe that yours is 'just right,' then? It looks like it has never seen a brush!"

The white mare laughed and shook her head. "Yep! One hundred percent freedom right here!"

Octavia cocked an eyebrow.

"So, why _are_ you here?" The white unicorn suddenly sounded serious.

Octavia feigned offense. "What? A girl can't enjoy herself in a club?"

The unicorn smirked. "Sitting here drinking wine? Yeah, you're havin' the time of your life."

Octavia scowled.

"But since you're here," the unicorn continued. "What's your name?"

Octavia was taken aback by the question, and answered more out of surprise than anything else. "I'm Octavia,"

"Hmm… Nope, too uptight. You need a nickname!"

"What?"

"How about Octy?"

"Celestia, no. That sounds like some repulsive creature. And what about my name is uptight?"

"Okay, then, what about Tavi?"

Octavia did not like the idea of chopping up her perfectly good name to satisfy some stranger, but she supposed it was better than the previous suggestion. She sighed. This was what she got for trying something new. "Fine,"

The unicorn pulled her into an awkward one-hoofed hug. "All right! I'll call you Tavi, and you can call me Vinyl! Mix! Another round for me an' my friend Tavi here!"

"Oh, that's kind of you, but I-"

"Nonsense! My boss said something about hospalality so that's what I'm doin'!"

"You mean hospi_tality_- wait, your boss?"

"Well, yeah. I just got done with my shift as DJ. Beats'll keep this crowd occupied 'till closing." She jerked a hoof over her shoulder to the DJ booth, where a blue Pegasus with a light yellow mane was expertly manipulating records and buttons using wings and hooves alike.

"You were responsible for that music?" Octavia failed to hide her disdain, and Vinyl noticed.

"Yeah, I know, but it's what the ponies want, you know? Personally, I'm more of a fan of the classics."

"Classics?" Octavia could hardly believe her ears. Could this messy DJ really be a fan of-?

"Yeah, ever hear of Journeigh?"

Octavia should have known that was coming. "Yes, of course I've heard of them, but I don't really-"

"Just a small town girl!" Vinyl started singing at the top of her lungs. "Livin' in a lonely wo-orld!"

"Yes, I know-"

"Took the midnight train goin' aaa-neee-where!"

"Please stop,"

"What? Don't like my singing?"

"It's not that I don't like it, but did you really find it appropriate to break out in song like that?"

"Uh, it's a club. How was it not appropriate to break out like that?"

Octavia huffed. She couldn't fault that logic.

"Speaking of which, you never did say what you were doing here." Vinyl finished off the last of whatever was in her glass and motioned for another.

"I suppose I… thought it would be fun. Try something new. Something different." Octavia explained, though she wasn't sure why she was telling Vinyl.

"Different than what?"

"Than what I've been doing; than the same old thing. A break, I guess you could say. I just… needed to escape, you know?"

Vinyl laughed. "That's another Journeigh song, Escape. My favorite, by the way. But yeah, I get what you're saying. Feels that way here too, sometimes. It's the same old ponies, the same old music. It gets boring, right?" She suddenly leaned closer to Octavia. "And the worst part is you can't change it, because the audience won't let you. You're trapped by their ex… expec… wow that ruined the whole thing."

"Expectations," Octavia finished for her. "Yes, that's exactly it. The ponies aren't there for the music, they're just there to be there."

Vinyl nodded slowly. "Tell you what." She slammed her glass down on the counter. "Let's do something."

"Beg pardon?"

Vinyl nearly launched herself off her stool. "C'mon, we're leaving,"

"Where?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Let's just go."

Octavia hesitated. She had just met this mare, and now she was going to just go with her, with no plan, no anything?

Vinyl turned back to her new friend to see her still sitting still at the bar. "Hey! Isn't this what you wanted? Somethin' different?"

Octavia drained her glass and followed the white unicorn out the door.

* * *

The pair exited the club and surveyed the city before them.

"So, where are we going?" Octavia asked.

"I told you, I don't care. C'mon!" Vinyl set off at a gallop down the street, laughing.

"Hey, wait!" Octavia groaned and ran after her.

Vinyl did not slow down until she reached a grassy park almost ten blocks away. She collapsed at the base of a tree, still laughing. Octavia arrived a few seconds later, gasping for air.

"What… are you doing?" she said between breaths.

Vinyl sat up suddenly. "Whatever I want," she reached up and hooked a hoof around Octavia's foreleg, pulling her to the ground beside her. "Tag! You're it!" She shouted, and bolted toward another tree.

Octavia yelled in surprise as she hit the ground, but that quickly turned into focused determination. "Oh, she is gonna get it," she turned around to see Vinyl sticking her tongue out at her from a little ways away.

Octavia gave chase, but soon realized she wasn't going to outrun the other mare. She leaned against a tree, breathing heavily.

"Tavi? Where'd you go?" Vinyl called. "You didn't give up, did you?"

Octavia was about to answer, but then stopped herself. Vinyl couldn't see where she was, which gave her an immediate advantage. She also noticed that the paved path was the only part of the park that was lit at this time at night. She smirked to herself. In the dim illumination, Vinyl's white coat would be easily noticeable, while her own gray and black hair would be practically invisible. She could work with this.

"Tavi?" Her target called again. "C'mon, seriously. This isn't funny anymore."

Octavia did not move from her concealed position. Vinyl sounded like she was coming closer, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the white mare stepped under a light, her coat almost gleaming in contrast to the dark background. Her hoofsteps were slower, now, and her head swept left and right in an attempt to locate her pursuer.

Octavia snickered quietly. She had forgotten the ridiculous glasses her new companion wore; they would only make it easier for her to sneak up on the unicorn unnoticed.

As Vinyl neared the tree, Octavia tried to make herself as small as possible, using the shadows as camouflage. She grinned in anticipation and waited for just a little while longer.

The other mare, oblivious to a certain pair of violet eyes following her, passed the tree and continued down the path.

Octavia slunk after her quarry silently, her hooves muffled by the grass, her form hidden by the darkness. Ever so slowly she crept up behind Vinyl, forcing herself not to laugh. This was going to be entertaining.

She was hardly a leg's length away now. She reached up slowly and tapped Vinyl's shoulder. "Tag," she said simply.

* * *

Vinyl calmed her breathing and slowed to a trot, having quickly outdistanced her opponent. She looked behind her and couldn't see anything; the entire area was dark.

"Tavi? Where'd you go? You didn't give up, did you?" she taunted, hoping to draw the gray mare out. She received no answer, unless you counted wind blowing through the trees an answer. Vinyl stopped and listened hard. Nope, nothing; not even a sneeze.

Vinyl stated back toward the path, straining her eyes and ears against the darkness and silence. She would never admit she was scared, but being in an empty park alone, this late at night… well, it was enough to make anypony's imagination run wild.

"Tavi?" she tried again. "C'mon, seriously. This isn't funny anymore," She reached the path and stepped under an island of light, scanning for any signs of movement. Each one of her hoofsteps was amplified in her ears, and her heart thudded against her ribcage. She thought she saw a shadow move and whipped her head around, but it was gone.

She continued walking, even slower and more carefully now. . Her breath echoed, her ears twitched, and her eyes flicked back and forth behind her shades. Her body was tense and alert; nothing could possibly surprise her in this heightened state.

And then something touched her shoulder.

* * *

Vinyl did not scream at first; her body seized up, preventing her from drawing breath for a second. Her hair comically stood out from her head, resembling bolts of lightning. Her legs stiffened, and she seemed to levitate momentarily. She spun around and let out a cry worthy of a seventies martial arts movie, landing on her back hooves in a fighting stance to see Octavia rolling on the ground, cackling.

Vinyl immediately regained her composure. "That wasn't funny; I nearly had a heart attack!"

Octavia could barely breathe. "I thought it was pretty funny,"

Vinyl lightly kicked her in the side with a hoof.

"Ow, hey!"

"Please, that was a gentle nudge. You deserve it, anyway, scaring a helpless mare like that."

"Helpless? You were ready to kill me!"

"Well maybe I wouldn't have had to go ninja on you if you hadn't gone ninja on me! Speaking of which, where the heck did you come from?"

"Behind you,"

Vinyl waited, but that was all the answer she got. "That's it?"

"A good ninja never reveals her secrets,"

Vinyl rolled her eyes, which Octavia couldn't see, of course. "Yeah, whatever, I still win."

"How's that now?"

"Tag," Vinyl set a hoof squarely on Octavia's exposed stomach, effectively pinning her to the ground.

"Hmph," Octavia decided not to fight it, and lay down on her back just in time to see a shooting star wink in and out of existence overhead. "Look!" she pointed with a hoof, but of course Vinyl had missed it. Octavia shut her eyes and made her wish.

"What, you see a shooting star?"

Octavia sighed in response. "It's been a while since I've just looked at the stars. They really are quite beautiful."

Vinyl followed her gaze, then sat down beside her. She even levitated her glasses off of her face. "Yeah, I guess," she admitted. "Luna did a great job with those, huh?"

"Mmh-hmm," Octavia fell silent, and felt her body relax for the first time in at least a few days, possibly a few weeks.

Vinyl couldn't stay quiet for long. "I've always liked the moon. When I was little, I thought the Mare in the Moon was my mom watching over me, protecting me. It's why I chose the nightlife instead of a day job; I felt more comfortable with the moon over me." She considered her story for a bit. "Well, it made sense back then. Who'd have guessed it was really Princess Luna, huh?"

Octavia gave her full attention, but did not interject. Vinyl kept talking.

"Not seeing that face up there anymore… it was like losing my mom all over again." She paused. "But then I look up at the stars and say, 'Just because she's not in the moon doesn't mean she's not watching over me.' She's somewhere out there."

Octavia looked up at the stars again with a new perspective. She saw one sparkle, and imagined it was her granddad smiling down at her like he used to when he saw her practice her violin, and later cello.

Vinyl leaned back and rested her hooves behind her head. "So what about you?" She asked. "You haven't told me hardly anything about you."

"Oh! Well, there's really not much to tell. I was born in Canterlot and spent my entire life here. I play… rather, I used to play for the Royal Symphony, but-"

"No way; you're a musician?" Vinyl interrupted, suddenly sitting back up and putting her glasses back on. "Do you do original pieces? Oh, you have to show me! Where do you live?"

Octavia flinched from the barrage of questions, and answered them as best as she could. "Umm, yes?"

Vinyl jumped up. "C'mon, you gotta show me!"

"All right, calm down first," Octavia struggled to her feet and wondered how Vinyl could possibly have this much energy at this hour.

As she stood up, Octavia noticed something about her companion. "Your cutie mark; the notes go backwards. Why is that?"

"I guess I've always been sort of backwards." Vinyl grinned lopsidedly.

Octavia smiled at that, and led the way out of the park.

* * *

They reached Octavia's apartment without any complications, and Vinyl bounded over to the cello and music stand in the corner.

"Awesome; it's like a giant guitar! I bet you can play some sweet riffs on this baby! What are these? Are these the sweet riffs?" She grabbed several sheets of music off the floor with her magic. "Hmm… 'Seventh symphony'… Nope, don't care; sounds boring. What's this?" She turned to the page on the music stand. "'Luna's Dreamscape,'" She read. "Sounds less boring. Not much to look at, though."

Octavia had hardly closed the door behind them. "I haven't gotten round to putting anything down yet,"

Vinyl's face lit up. "We could write it together!"

"What? Oh, you don't have to do that," Octavia was rather hoping Vinyl wouldn't actually want to help. A DJ had no business co-writing a classical piece.

Vinyl, however, had other ideas. "No, don't you see? The new thing in music! A mix between your boring old guys and my awesomeness!" She was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Old guys?" Octavia was understandably indignant.

Vinyl didn't even seem to notice, she was so excited. "I bet I can hook up your guitar to the turntables with magic, and-"

"Oh, no," Octavia interrupted. "Firstly, it's called a cello, not a guitar. Secondly, you are not 'hooking it up' to anything!"

"Aw, come on, 'Tavi, that would sound amazing!"

Octavia would have crossed her forelegs if she were standing upright. "Do you know what a cello sounds like?"

"Umm, amazing? Maybe you should play for me, so I have an idea!" Her enthusiasm hardly missed a beat.

"Vinyl, it is two in the morning. I am not waking up half the apartment building because you haven't heard what an actual instrument sounds like."

Vinyl didn't even notice the jibe. "Half the building? Is it that loud?" Her unseen eyes grew wide.

"String instruments are designed to resonate, and these walls aren't exactly soundproof," Octavia explained. "Though, I suppose it was a bit of a hyperbole."

"Hypa-what?"

"Never mind. Listen, it's getting late, and I'm not used to being awake at this hour. I don't mean to sound rude, but shouldn't you be heading home?"

Vinyl shuffled awkwardly on her hooves. "Uh, yeah, about that… Would you mind if I sorta… crashed here tonight?" She smiled sheepishly. "Like you said, it's kinda late, and I do live in the Outer District,"

Octavia understood what she was saying. A walk alone to the Outer District this late at night would be less than desirable. The walk from the park had been quite enough to make both mares aware of that fact.

"Unfortunately, I don't have a spare guest room or anything like that,"

"No prob, I can take the couch."

"Really? You're sure?"

"Hey, I've slept on worse. I'll be fine."

"If you say so. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow," Octavia fetched the necessary items from a nearby closet so Vinyl could be at least a little bit more comfortable.

"Thanks, 'Tavi. I owe ya,"

"Think nothing of it,"

"Okay, well, g'night, then."

"Good night, Vinyl."

Octavia made her way to her own bed and settled down under her sheets. She reflected back on her evening, and the new friend she had found. Vinyl might be brash, messy, and, well, pretty much the opposite of herself, but Octavia felt comfortable talking to her for some reason. She had a certain… charm wasn't the right word. Well, it was something.

Octavia had found a pony that shared her ideas about music and the Canterlot lifestyle. She had even said something about the new thing in music, even if it did involve a certain electronic element. She felt a mixture of excitement and fear, and knew that tomorrow she'd make even more progress.


	3. Escape

Ch. 3 – Escape

Octavia woke up to the loudest snoring she had ever heard. She wondered where it was coming from for a moment before she remembered what had happened last night.

She sat up, and discovered her head ached slightly. Oh, well. Nothing a little coffee and possibly some orange juice couldn't fix.

She got up to shower and brush her hair and teeth, and then walked out of her bedroom to find the rambunctious DJ. She was right where she had fallen asleep, sort of. She was now lying on her back, with the blanket draped over a single hoof and spilling onto the floor. Her head was almost off the couch, and her mouth was open wide, producing the snoring Octavia was sure could wake the dead. Amazingly, her glasses were still on her face.

It was weird; Octavia had known this mare for less than twelve hours, and most of that time had been spent sleeping, but she still felt a connection, like she had more in common with the unicorn than she had thought at first glance. Well, she could figure that out later. She needed some coffee.

-XXX-

Latte's twins Cream and Sugar were sweeping the patio and wiping tables when Octavia showed up.

"Hi, Miss Octavia!"

"How are you, Miss Octavia?"

Octavia smiled down at the colt and filly before her. They had been brought up on old-fashioned Canterlot values: their manners were flawless, their appearance ordinary. Cream's coat was a slightly lighter brown than his sister's, but Sugar's mane was lighter than his.

"I'm just fine Sugar, how are you?" Octavia gave a polite reply, and continued the conversation at the same time. It was very high society of her.

"Very well, Miss Octavia," was the answer. "Lovely day we're having isn't it?"

Octavia felt proud that this young filly was growing up knowing how to converse properly, but it was tarnished by guilt. She was just a child, and was being molded into the very thing Octavia was fighting against: an emotionless socialite. She decided to throw the little filly for a loop.

"I'll bet tomorrow will be even lovelier," she said with a smile.

Sugar did not have a response to that, so she set her face to a default smile. It seemed to satiate Octavia, who trotted past her and into the shop itself. Cream, in lieu of a hat, tipped his head slightly as she passed.

The bell tinkled, and Latte looked up from her newspaper. "Octavia! How are you? You look good,"

"I feel even better," Octavia could not keep her smile from spreading. "What have you got for me today?"

"Hmm, nothing new, I'm afraid, but maybe you'll like this," Latte retrieved an item from one of her display cases and presented it to her friend. It was triangular in shape, and had berries sprinkled through the dough, almost like a muffin. "It's called a scone," she explained. "The dough isn't as soft or as moist as a muffin, but it still has real fruit inside, and I know you like blueberries."

Octavia accepted the pastry and took a polite bite. The crunchy texture was a welcome difference, and she munched happily on her newfound treat.

Latte gauged her reaction with the expertise of a pony that made a living making sure ponies were satisfied. "Like it?"

"Mm-hm," Octavia managed, and then swallowed. "It's delicious." She pushed the necessary bits across the counter, and Latte took them graciously.

"So tell me what's got you so happy today. Meet a nice stallion, did you?"

Octavia laughed briefly. "No. A mare, actually. At a club, of all places."

"Oh, really? I didn't take you for a… you know,"

"We are not together, Latte; I met her just last night."

"A lot can happen in a night," Latte winked.

Octavia treated her to her best deadpan stare before moving on. "Anyway, she says she's going to help me write a new original piece for my cello."

"She's a musician? Wow, you got lucky!"

Octavia grimaced only slightly. "Well, she's a DJ for a club… I'm not sure she'll be big on classical composition. She called some of the most brilliant composers of our era 'boring old guys.'"

Latte fought back her giggles. "Ah, she'll be good for you, Octavia. You need a DJ in your life."

Octavia stared into her now empty cup. "Maybe… Thank you, Latte."

"Anytime, Octavia. You're always welcome here."

-XXX-

As Octavia approached her door, she heard the same racket she had heard when she had woken up. Was Vinyl _still_ asleep?

The key clicked and the door squeaked, revealing her answer. The white unicorn she had met last night was unconscious on her sofa in the same position Octavia had left her in when she went out that morning.

'_Does she know it's after 11:00?' _Octavia didn't wait for an answer, hypothetical or otherwise. She walked up to the couch and solidly kicked one of the legs, jolting its occupant awake.

"Spiders! Ninja spiders! Spi…" Vinyl woke up screaming and breathing heavily. "Spiders," She turned her head and saw Octavia standing over her. She adjusted her glasses on her face and launched herself at the other mare. "Oh, Tavi! You saved me!"

Octavia rolled her eyes and gently pushed Vinyl off of her. "Clean up and have some breakfast," she said. "We have work to do."

"Work?" the DJ's brow furrowed, but Octavia could only see her frown.

"Yes, work," Octavia repeated. "Now go take a shower, and for the love of Celestia brush your mane!"

"No way!" Vinyl shook her head violently, further agitating her hairdo. "Chicks dig the wild style." She smirked.

Octavia did not even smile. "Well, at least use some soap."

Vinyl sighed. "Fine, but only because I like you."

Octavia pointed out the bathroom and handed her companion a towel, which she accepted with magic. Unfazed, Octavia retrieved the note she had gotten yesterday and found the second address Coda had written.

It wasn't really an address, though; there was one word at the top: "Syncopation," along with a street name from the Outer District, with a second name in parentheses below it. An intersection, perhaps? But who would live there? Maybe it pointed to a business? There were too many questions, and only one way to get the answers. Unfortunately, Octavia only recognized one of the street names. '_This might turn into a wild goose chase.'_

Vinyl exited the bathroom, trailing steam and rubbing the towel behind her ears.

"Heads up!"

Octavia barely had time to turn around before the towel hit her. It slid down her face to show a less than pleased expression staring back at Vinyl's own cocky grin. "So! What's for breakfast?" The white mare asked.

Octavia wordlessly folded the towel and placed it in a laundry hamper, keeping her aggravation in check. Latte thought this mare would be good for her? She was having a hard time believing it, herself.

"There's oatmeal in the pantry, or you can make toast, if you like." She finally said.

"Ugh, boring! Got any cereal? And please don't say Corn Flakes."

"What's wrong with Corn Flakes?"

"Are you kidding me?" Vinyl had opened the pantry doors and was peering inside. "You don't even have any Sugar Puffs?"

"Sugar Puffs. You're serious?"

Vinyl shrugged. "Packed with nine essential vitamins and minerals. That's healthy, right?"

"Actually, they're really not."

"Whatever. Got anything to eat that's somewhat tasty?"

Octavia gritted her teeth, but spoke calmly. "Well, you can do what I always do when I want to treat myself."

"What, put raisins in your oatmeal? Bleagh!"

The amount of restraint it took for Octavia to bite back a retort was quite extraordinary. Instead, she closed her eyes and sighed. "No, you can sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on buttered toast."

Vinyl was silent for a moment, thinking. She nodded. "Can't hurt to try!"

"That's the spirit," Octavia said dryly.

As Vinyl chewed, Octavia filled her in on the plan for the day: to find the other street Coda had been talking about when he had written his note. Between bites, Vinyl glanced at the slip of paper, not careful about whether she dirtied it with crumbs or not. The result was that she did indeed make a mess.

"So, who we meetin' up with? What's this? Syncopation? What's that even mean?"

"If I knew, I would tell you. We're just going to have to find out when we get there."

"Well then let's get there!"

-XXX-

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Octavia was walking half a step behind Vinyl, this being "her side of town," as she called it. Since she didn't recognize any of the buildings or streets, Octavia had no choice but to trust her companion.

They made their way behind a series of brick buildings where Vinyl pointed out a bent and faded street sign. "There you go; Withering Way. Told you I'd get us here!"

"Maybe, but we still need to find this other one, this 'Breakaway Street,' and I don't see any other roads." Octavia looked around. The alleyway was deserted, except for a snoring pegasus wearing a battered hat leaning against the side of a wall. He had a dirty cream-colored coat, and they could see streaks of silver in his midnight blue tail. Vinyl immediately trotted over.

"Hey, buddy!"

The snoring continued.

Vinyl's second attempt consisted of actually pushing the stallion over.

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

"Oh, good; you're awake," Vinyl ignored the glare she had deserved. "You know where we can find Breakaway Street?"

The stallion's expression changed in an instant. "H-How d'you know that name?"

Vinyl showed him the slip of paper "Or you could tell us where this 'Syncopation' is."

The old pegasus's eyes grew even wider, and he snatched the note from Vinyl's magical grasp. "Who gave you this?" he demanded.

Octavia finally spoke up, "My symphony director; do you know a Coda?"

The old pony slumped against the wall, and thrust the paper back at Vinyl, who barely caught it. "Ain't no 'Syncopation' here," he said. "No 'Breakaway Street,' neither. Leave me alone."

"You gotta know something!" Vinyl pressed. "This note says 'Withering Way,' and this is the only Withering Way in the city! Did Breakaway Street and Syncopation just get up and leave?"

The pegasus scowled. "Yeah, they left. Long time ago. Wish you would do the same. Leave me alone."

He turned away from the two mares, and as he did, Octavia caught a glimpse of his cutie mark. It was simple: just two black notes, but Octavia understood it in a heartbeat.

"A dotted quarter note and an accented eighth note," she said slyly. "If we assume the first note is on a down beat, that would put the accent of the second one on the off-beat. The simplest form of syncopation."

The stallion squinted at her. "Somepony who knows their music, eh? You're a disappearin' breed, you are,"

Octavia wasn't sure if that was a compliment, so she remained silent. Vinyl covered for her.

"_You're_ Syncopation? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I said 'leave me alone,' and I meant it. I don't wanna be bothered by nopony. That includes you two."

"But why?"

"Don't matter why; go away."

Vinyl did not. "So where's Breakaway Street, huh?"

"Don't know nothin' about it."

Octavia cut in, "But you recognized the name when we showed it to you, and Coda said you were an old friend. You must know something."

The disgruntled stallion sighed. "Look, it ain't nopony's business where Breakaway Street is or who Syncopation is. Not even that old fart Coda's. You're wastin' your time here."

Octavia didn't budge. "What happened between you two?"

Syncopation was silent for a few seconds. "You're not gonna go away, are you?" The mares shook their heads in unison, to Syncopation's chagrin. "Let's say he chose his own path, and leave it at that."

Octavia suddenly remembered something Coda had said: "_If you called me a coward for what I didn't do, you would be right in doing so." _What had Coda not done?

"What the hay does that mean?" Vinyl's voice brought her back to the situation at hoof.

"Means I don't want no part in whatever you two are doing. You gonna go away now?"

"Fine," Vinyl turned away impatiently, but Octavia lingered, still thinking.

"If Coda didn't do something," she mused, "And you say he took a different path, that means you must have done what he didn't do, right? What were you trying to do?"

Syncopation's eyes and mouth moved slightly as he followed Octavia's train of thought. Finally, he frowned. "It wasn't nothin' important." He declared.

"It must have been!" Octavia insisted. "Or you wouldn't feel so strongly about it! Did it have anything to do with music?"

Syncopation gave her a tired look and adjusted his hat. "Go home, miss. While you still got one. It's too late to change anything. I did my best; look where that got me." He indicated the run-down alley. "Canterlot's too far gone; you can't save it." He leaned back and closed his eyes, believing the discussion was over.

"I can't believe that." Octavia said quietly. "I won't believe it. Coda said I could save him…"

Syncopation barked a laugh. "You got any idea what you're up against? The whole of Canterlot is stuck in the same way of thinkin'. There ain't nopony in this city who'll support you; you got no money, no plan, no nuthin! Give it up. You lost before you even began."

Octavia tried to step back, and realized her whole body was shaking. Even worse, she could feel tears forming at the edge of her eyes. "You… how can you say that? How can you even suggest that? Giving up on music is tantamount to giving up on life!" She shook her head to purge her brain of the very thought of quitting. She couldn't, not now; she had barely even begun. "Even if you have," she held her chin high, masking the frustration and sadness she felt. "I can't. Not while I know I can still do something." She turned sharply on her hoof, her strides long and purposeful, taking her somewhere, anywhere away from the alley. She did not wait for Vinyl, and did not stop until her anger-driven energy ran out, and she collapsed on a stoop a few blocks away.

Vinyl caught up to her just as she put her face in her hooves. "Aw, c'mon Tavi, it's not that bad,"

Octavia barely lifted her head. "How bad is it, Vinyl? Even ponies who used to care about music have given up. What can we possibly do?"

Vinyl shrugged, undeterred. "We'll figure something out." She held out her hoof. "C'mon. Don't listen to that phil, fuh, fay, oh, you know what I mean?"

Octavia rolled her eyes, but accepted the hoof. "I believe you mean philistine."

"Yeah, that! Who needs ponies like that?"

Octavia conceded a small smile, ignoring Vinyl's improper use of the word. "So, what do you think we should do?"

"There's a good burger joint just up the street,"

Octavia couldn't resist facehoofing.

-XXX-

The "joint" Vinyl mentioned was a quaint 50s style restaurant, nestled between

an old brick building and an out-of-business antique shop. The food was decent, but Octavia could do no more than pick at her hay fries and wildflower salad.

"Aroo not 'unree?"

Vinyl's attempted sentence was met with a disapproving frown. She gulped and tried again. "Sorry; are you not hungry?"

Octavia stared at her food, not really seeing it. "I'm just contemplating what we should do next."

"Oh, lighten up; I told you we'd think of something," Vinyl took another impossibly huge bite of her sandwich.

Octavia delicately placed a fry in her mouth and chewed slowly, not sure what to think at this point. "I feel almost… trapped. The ponies we're trying to help don't want help, and the ponies who should try to help don't want to."

Vinyl swallowed this time before talking "Ah, there's always a way out, even if you can't see it. Least, in my experience, anyway."

"Why, Vinyl, that was almost wise,"

"Why do you sound surprised?"

A smile was Octavia's only answer.

Half an hour later, the mares were back on the streets of Canterlot. They wandered aimlessly; they weren't in a hurry to be anywhere. They passed Withering Way again, with no sign of Syncopation: the pegasus had disappeared.

Octavia stood for a second at the alley, but Vinyl pulled her onward. "Don't worry about him; let's get outta here." Octavia nodded forlornly and followed.

They were passing through the park that they had run to the previous night when a voice stopped them.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!"

Both mares turned to see an airborne pegasus clutching a hat to his head as he flew. He touched down just behind them, breathing heavy. "Whoo! I ain't built for sprint-flyin', that's for sure,"

"Syncopation? What in Equestria are you doing here?"

"Tried to… follow you… couldn't find…" The older stallion was still having trouble breathing. "Look, I thought about what you said. You're right; I can't give up on my music an' be happy about it. So," he looked behind him, "To get outta that thinkin', I guess I gotta get outta here, too."

Octavia nodded approvingly, glad that the day hadn't been a complete loss.

"All right, Sync!" Vinyl clapped the Pegasus on the back.

"Don't call me Sync,"

"Sorry; Tavi's got a nickname, so you need one too."

"Two syllables is pretty much your limit, isn't it, Vinyl?" Octavia had a smile back on her face.

Vinyl stuck her tongue out at her.


End file.
